Who, is this?

I believe most of us, including my parents themselves may have wondered who they really are at this stage of life. I guess it happens to this generation as well, looking at how some of my friends transform from conventional convent girls to bubble-chewing groups of four and five, or even those who choose to stop believing in the silly voice in their head, or even some losing the glitter in their eyes and their smile getting thinner and thinner. I, myself, similarly to any other ordinary teen, am still and will be doing the same thing for years to come: to continue questioning myself who I really am. Thus, my title for today’s project would be the same as most of the lines in my diary: Who is this?

I must admit I am a girl with who appears to be composed on the outside, and have the loudest mind on the inside. I am a girl capable of sitting in a corner of a room and start wondering, or maybe wandering at the same time. And I realize that the most frequent question in my head is : Who am I? Why am I behaving this way? Did my actions hurt the others? Now this may seem like a sign of an individual who is too self-conscious, but this is who I am, no matter how hard it is for me to deny it.

Having admitting myself for being self-conscious, I shall start with this list of what-I-am-not.

First, I am not a good painter. The fact that I can’t draw well has been made clear to me since the age of 5—when I awkwardly painted the sky orange and Mickey’s face blue. Neither my teachers nor parents could tell that this made me a far worse artist later. I am also a lousy basketball player. Looking at my height, I would imagine there is a need for further elaborations. Basketball is only one of the many ball games I am clumsy at—there is a whole list of ball games that I have attempted but to no avail. Being eloquent certainly isn’t my strength. I am not the kind of person who can be convincing, and it is even harder for me to convince a cat to come down from the tree. And this made one of the many reasons I joined toastmasters.

I have ambitions, I have dreams. These things had influence me to make decisions in life.

And somehow it crushes me at the same time.

At this point of time, I had attended seminars and motivational camps. Regardless of the organizers, there is a consensus of them wanting the youths to “chase after your dreams”

“Luck is when preparation meets opportunity” one says.

“The richest place on earth is not the king’s palace,” one said, “not the central bank, but the cemetery. Thousands and thousands of people died with their dreams, unfulfilled. Do you wish that happen to you”.

And these, these are the little, little quotes that became my mantra in my studies.

Until I got my hands on Nigel Marsh’s book : Fat, Forty and Fired.

In short, this book taught a person, the reader, how to juggle everything better. Nigel’s way, he claimed in his book, is to have a balance of everything. Of course, balancing work, life and family is always a task to mankind since the dawn of technology and start of globalization. Chasing after money and fame doesn’t seem that appealing at all. Mhhmm, made me think again.

And in this process of thinking and wondering, I often take the brave step of trying out myself, landing myself in mistakes, which, my parents often back me up with confidence and love.

They say mistakes may either build or ruin a person, but I believe, in this 18 years of my life, mistakes has shape every piece of me. Even the smallest mistake made may still be recalled. Most of the scars that left me staying in the dark for some time will in turn make me a more resourceful and careful person, and this is the proudest trait I have as a person : being a kinesthetic learner, I’m willing to go through mistakes and experiences to learn

The biggest mistake I’ve made so far? Choosing to come to Singapore for a college education. It is, no doubt, a blessing in disguise; but I still choose to perceive it as a beautiful mistake that took me so far away from home and landed me in a place with immerse pressure, expectations and a silver line ahead.

I grew up in a small town called Ipoh. When I was young I had no idea that I’ll grow up one day and be proud of this beautiful town. Of course, the history lessons I’ve taken in school is far from letting us reaching out to the depths of the truth, or the incredible hardships of my ancestors who once settled in this town, discovered and extracted tin ores that had led to the development of this town. Still, Ipoh is a far from being a wholly developed piece of land. I wonder, again, if the authority is really that lacking of time or resources, or, sadly, their very own commitments to put their heads together for Ipoh’s development. There was a moment in my life, when I was around 13-14 years old, that I decided to run for parliament after I saw the despotic way that the traffic police handle road-users. I dropped that idea 4 years later, realizing that sometimes, becoming a politician might not make me a person who makes changes for the benefit of the people.

Growing up in a family with parents who lost their chances of education at a young age, I often am depicted as a normal student. Indeed I am, and I must admit that I am one normal person, no matter how much I hate that fact. My father, a smart and athletic fellow, lost his chance to make his first step into university when he became complacent in college. My mother, the only daughter of a family with 8 sons, had to forgo her studies when her father lost his only job as a performer. (During those days, Malaya was not a place that appreciate arts. Being multitalented in musical instruments was not able to allow my grandfather to put bread on the table). Nonetheless, my parents are determine to educate us. I can vaguely remember my mother staying up late just to know some sense into my on a math question. It was well past midnight, well pass the sleeping time for 8-year-olds. Yet she was still there with me in the dining hall, sternly, firmly, holding a piece of pen and paper, lecturing me. That, ladies and gentlemen, shapes my respect to my two old men. One year being away from them deepens the respect. I would love to honor them today by telling their stories in my very first project in Toastmasters.

I shall conclude this, humbly saying that I am a normal girl with a loud and, still confused mind. I am praying hard that this head of mind could hold a lot more big hard facts in months to come towards A levels. I’m praying for my head to have enough prudence to build a big heart in me, so that I could make a change in someone else’s life.

Ladies and gentlemen, I conclude this with a thank you,

sincerely from,

This is me.